


Leaving Notes In The Northern Lights

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Sort Of, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28059453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: She couldn’t help but take quick glances back at him as she washed the dishes and dried them, watching as he went between one of the books he was reading and the parchment beside him, fingers delicately tracing over the lines, lips mouthing what he was reading. It was almost hypnotizing, the way he would pick apart lines that he either enjoyed or felt had such an impact on him, writing down meanings they could have, translating them into his own language.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor & Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Leaving Notes In The Northern Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Day 13 of the Christmas fics! How are we doing people! I hope you enjoy! -Thorne

There was something about her. Something that made his heart flutter in his chest and the only way he could relate the feeling to anything he knew would be to compare his heartbeat in her presence to his heartbeat during a Leap of Faith. Erratic, but free.

He danced around her, too afraid to speak on the feelings that bloomed through his chest and down his spine when she smiled at him. Too afraid to mess up the trusting foundation already laid between them. He wanted more. Wanted to know what it felt like to hold her hand in his, to press his lips against her cheeks, to hold her against him, and yet he still stayed just out of reach—whether it was to keep her safe from the life he lived or to protect himself from something he wasn’t sure about, he didn’t know. But something told him he would soon find out.

*******

She hummed to herself as she cleaned the table of dinner plates and utensils. Achilles had retired rather early after dinner, leaving her and Connor to their own devices. The Native-Assassin had brought down a few books an hour before, studying over them religiously.

She couldn’t help but take quick glances back at him as she washed the dishes and dried them, watching as he went between one of the books he was reading and the parchment beside him, fingers delicately tracing over the lines, lips mouthing what he was reading. It was almost hypnotizing, the way he would pick apart lines that he either enjoyed or felt had such an impact on him, writing down meanings they could have, translating them into his own language.

He was fond of Shakespeare and the early Greek poets as she’d learned from having to search high and low for the copies of _Hamlet_ and _The Iliad_ that Achilles had until discovering that they were in Connor’s possession. He’d taken the liberty of sticking notes between the pages.

Maybe that could be the conversation she could start with him. Hobbies built interest, right? If she could keep him talking long enough to gauge his reactions, maybe she could tell if he liked her or not? _No_. She thought. _That’s a terrible plan. He’s gonna know. Or will he?_ She felt like she was having an internal crisis. _Oh, of course he is. Connor is smarter than that. Hell, he’s the smartest person you know. And the kindest. And the sweetest. And the handso—_

A crash jerked her from her thoughts, and she jumped as the metal pan settled on the brick floor.

“(Y/N)?” Connor called form the dining room, concern in his tone.

She winced, bending over to pick the pan up. “Sorry, Ratonhnhaké:ton, I dropped the pan.” Smiling at him, she excused, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He chuckled, setting the ink into it’s cap. “I think it was _you_ who was startled.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm and she placed the pan on the table, busying herself with another dish as she retorted, “Says the man who leaped a foot in his seat.” She shot him a sharp look, grinning as his cheeks flushed.

Setting down the rag, she grabbed one of the cups and moved to the fireplace, pouring a steaming, creamy liquid into the glass. (Y/N) walked into the dining room and set the cup down beside him, watching as he glanced into it.

“What is that?” he questioned, carefully dipping a finger in to check the temperature.

She smiled. “Warm milk.”

Connor eyed her with a cocked brow. “Am I a child who needs to be coerced into sleep?” His tone was laced with humor and she snorted.

“Well, my mother did say that nothing tired you out more than studying.” (Y/N) reached over, gently brushing away a stray hair in his face. “Though I’ve never seen you get tired from reading, only more excited.”

His cheeks tinged crimson as her fingers touched his skin and he brought the cup to his lips, quietly taking a sip. “It’s sweet.” He remarked.

She winked at him. “I added a sugar cube to _satiate_ your sugar tooth.” (Y/N) turned, heading back into the kitchen.

“ _I do not have a sugar tooth_ ,” he muttered to himself, but she heard it and smiled all the same.

*****Later That Night*****

As she readied herself for bed, she heard a knock at the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she murmured, “Come in.”

The door opened and Connor stepped inside. “Excuse me,” he said, eyes searching until they landed on her.

(Y/N) observed him a moment before shifting her attention back to the fireplace, laying a log in it. Given that he was no longer in his robes and instead in a pair of white pants and a matching tunic, she gathered that he was about to go to bed as well.

Giving the fire a few stabs with the poker, she hummed with satisfaction and turned to face him. “Is something wrong, Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

He shifted awkwardly on his feet, thrusting a thumb to the way he’d come. “May I have a moment of your time?”

She arched an eyebrow but nodded and set the poker back where it belonged. “Of course.”

(Y/N) followed him into the hallway, to the backroom. As they neared the door, he paused and turned to her, a hesitant look on his face. She smiled kindly to ease his worry and he seemed to relax, opening the door for them.

She stepped outside and gasped, eyes widening at the ribbons of green and purple dancing across the indigo sky. Her feet carried her to the wooden railing and she simply stared at the auroras.

“…Do you like it?” Connor asked, voice full of uncertainty.

“It’s… _beautiful_ ,” she breathed, a look of complete joy coming across her face. “I’ve never seen the northern lights here.”

He stood beside her, amber eyes directed to the auroras. “You can see them sometimes. But only on clear nights like this.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’m glad you showed me. I can’t even describe how amazing it is.”

“You are welcome,” he murmured.

Something heavy rested on her shoulders and she turned her head, seeing Connor adjusting a blanket around them. The chill of the night ran up her body and she suddenly realized how cold it was, hurriedly grasping at the side of the blanket, pulling it tighter around her. She leaned close to Connor, ignoring the way he tensed slightly at the contact.

“I apologize for bringing you out here when it is so cold, (Y/N).” he said, watching as she shivered a bit.

She shook her head. “A little cold weather is worth seeing this,” catching his eye, she added, “ _With you_.” A small smile graced his lips, and she rested her head on his arm, heart beating wildly in her chest.

For a moment, Connor didn’t move nor speak, then he shifted, cautiously wrapping his arm around her, fingers resting at her hip.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, and she titled her head.

“Yes, Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

He swallowed thickly, feeling his cheeks aflame with a flush as he asked, “May I hold your hand?”

A giddy smile crossed her face, and she raised her hand slightly, then he took it, lacing his fingers through hers, pressing hers to her stomach.

She couldn’t help the giggle that passed through her lips. “Your hands are warm.”

Connor huffed. “And yours are _small_.”

(Y/N) tipped her head up, meeting his gaze; they stared at one another for a while, then she said, “Being around you makes me really happy, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

“I feel the same,” he murmured and gently took hold of her chin with his free hand. “You make me—” he took a sharp breath, suddenly nervous, but the squeeze of her hand encouraged him to continue.

He met her eyes once more. “ _You make me feel worthy of everything I have ever been denied of_.”

Her jaw went slack, and she gaped at him.

“Was that too much?” he questioned, and (Y/N) shook her head.

“I—no, it wasn’t,” she replied. “I just…don’t have a line like that prepared.”

Connor snorted and rested his forehead against hers. “ _If it means that I am allowed to spend more time with you_ … _you are free to take as long as you need_.”

She nuzzled her nose to his. “ _I’ll take you up on that then_.”


End file.
